


sometimes,

by southofzero



Category: Transistor (Video Game)
Genre: F/M, Red's pov
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-25
Updated: 2018-02-25
Packaged: 2019-03-23 17:16:27
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 281
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13792401
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/southofzero/pseuds/southofzero
Summary: The sword feels like nothing more than a cruel taunt. It fills the space he left, blinking with his words and his voice and his love, but it feels more like a cage than a body.He's trapped there, unable to touch her, and she's trapped here, unable to apologize.





	sometimes,

Sometimes, the Transistor is easy to lift. She can jump and swing it above her head like it's nothing more than a few slips of paper, folded into some origami mockery of a sword.

But usually it's just... heavy.

Not impossible, no, but just weighty enough that she lets the tip drag and tries to stop thinking about how it was once a person (her person), and how it was the weapon that killed him. It's easy to wrap the Transistor up in her mind, pretend it's him and forget the image of it buried in his chest. But in the end, she's always reminded of its true nature.

It's the weapon she had to rip from his Traceless body, but it's also him, and sometimes the Transistor reflects that too.

Sometimes, but only sometimes, she can close her eyes and pretend the sword's weight is something close to human. She can hold it close to her chest, feel the thrum of its electric heartbeat and pretend that when she opens her eyes, she'll find him instead of the gleaming, geometric lines of the greatsword.

(Sometimes, after a hard fight, the Transistor's blade will warm under her palms. It's unfair, how she craves the warmth but hates the unfeeling, unrelenting surface it comes from.) 

Those thoughts are the worst, for both of them. Boxer doesn't mention it: doesn't mention the moments when her hands shake as she holds the sword in her lap; doesn't mention the moments when she carries him like a burden, like the weight of the world on her shoulders.

Red thinks it's poetic.

Sometimes, it's just as hard to lift him as it was to leave him.


End file.
